


Do Every Stupid Thing

by RobinTrigue



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: 5+1, Anonymous Sex, Blowjobs, Canadian Blowjob Day, Dom/sub Undertones, Glory Hole, M/M, is apparently a tag that exists, really they should all be wearing condoms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-10
Updated: 2017-07-10
Packaged: 2018-11-30 03:25:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11454987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RobinTrigue/pseuds/RobinTrigue
Summary: In which Sami Zayn finds himself at a glory hole and decides today isn't going to be the day he backs down from a challenge.





	Do Every Stupid Thing

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much to [Gasmasked](http://archiveofourown.org/users/gasmasked/pseuds/gasmasked) for betaing! Sorry I didn't include Pete Dunne heckling the entire encounter.
> 
> This is set around some fictional but current-ish PPV.

Sami rubbed at his eyes. He hadn’t gotten nearly enough sleep last night, or for the last few nights. That was always the rough part about being on tour, the long drives, which were hard if you had no one to ride with. If everyone you knew had already arranged to ride with other people, that is. They were just busy.

Still. After tonight’s PPV they would stay in town for the rest of the week to film, and that would give him a chance to rest up a bit. For now, Sami would do what he always did when exhausted – a dawn jog followed by a cold shower at the arena, and then exercise until the show started.

Sure enough, by the time Sami arrived, sweating into his oldest gym clothes, he was feeling much more alert. He was filling up with that buzz of anticipation that ate into his bones some days – most days – and couldn’t keep from bouncing on the balls of his feet as he wandered down the hallways that were nearly empty of people. Only a handful of backstage staff were around, checking audience seats, fixing blown bulbs on the LED screens, going over checklists of props. No one paid Sami any mind as he jabbed tight punches at thin air in time to the music, hopping side to side and wishing the show started _now_ instead of in eight hours. That was a lot of time to kill, exploring empty hallways.

He sat in the toilet stall for a few minutes doing vigorous air guitar as a new ska-punk album came on. If it hadn’t been his favourite, he probably would have noticed the hole in the side panel with the taped edges _before_ a cock was shoved through it.

Sami stared for half a second, removing his earbuds. Yup, that was definitely a penis bobbing about a foot in front of his face.

“Well? Are ya going t’get to it or not?” Neville’s voice was as abrasive as it usually was these days, and Sami prickled.

The fucking _audacity_ of Neville, to expect him to – his former friend! To expect _anyone_ to, these days, when there wasn’t a single person in the company he treated with a shred of decency! Sami could feel the rage that had been lying dormant all these months bubble to the surface; yes, sure, there had been a couple months where the two of them had been a little sidelined, but that had been no excuse for Neville to _abandon_ him like that, for him to invade 205 and—

“I’m the fuckin’ champion, I don’t deserve to wait around all day for this,” Neville spat, and started to pull away. Without a single clear thought in his head, Sami felt himself reach out and place a palm on his shaft.

“’Bout bloody time,” was the only reply. Neville thrust forward again, foreskin pulling smoothly back in Sami’s hand.

Sami saw flames. _The fucking nerve of him._ He was outraged, he was offended, he was getting on his knees and wrapping his lips around the winking head of Neville’s erection for reasons that made perfect sense somehow.

Neville let out a small grunt, almost like a cough, as Sami sucked him down. It had been a while since he’d done this; he didn’t remember body heat being this warm, maybe it was warmer when it belonged to somebody else because with every bob he took his ex-friend a little deeper and felt himself getting a little more flushed. Then he removed his hand entirely and promptly knocked his forehead on the metal siding. It rattled embarrassingly, and Sami remembered with aching clarity the time an early boyfriend had told him he wasn’t much good at blowjobs.

Neville seemed to agree, letting out a loud _tch!_ when Sami returned to using his hands for a moment. Sami glared at the green-beige metal _tugged_ forward, fingers wrapped tight.

“Argh – watch it–” Neville cursed, but was interrupted when Sami swallowed him down as far as he could. Now it was _Neville’s_ stupid, muscular thighs that were pressed against the wall, stupid Neville and his stupid body and his stupid flips and his stupid FIFA skills. Neville panted and stammered, and Sami felt something inside him roar hungrily.

Sami had a hand pressed on either side of his face, sucking Neville’s dick like his life depended on it. It tasted bitter and salty and gross and Sami choked a couple of times but kept forcing himself deeper until Neville was hitting the back of this throat with every shallow thrust. He didn’t give a shit about technique right now; his only thought was to overwhelm Neville as much as possible with force and persistence until he was a sobbing heap.

“Shit,” babbled Neville, pulling back only to have Sami’s mouth follow his head. Neville groaned loudly, thrusting back in and Sami didn’t gag this time. “Ah, shit, I’m fuckin’ close, I’m real fuckin’—”

Sami released him, sitting back on his haunches to admire the way Neville’s cock glistened with his saliva. Neville thrust a couple times against the metal panel.

“Hey! Hey, I’m not finished here!” he said, and Sami had to shove a fist in his mouth to keep from giggling. Neville punched at the metal with another _hey_ before withdrawing. “You fuckin’ arsewad, what the hell’s your game? Jesus Christ!”

Sami ducked to the side in case Neville bent down to look through the hole, but all Neville did was continue to swear a blue streak and shuffle over to the sink. Sami could hear the quick flap of skin on skin and low groans amidst the cursing, and then the sound of running water in the sink.

“Now go fuck yerself, shithead!” was Neville’s last farewell before he punched the light switch and let the bathroom door slam shut behind him.

Sami emerged from the cubicle, laughing heartily now as he turned the lights back on. There was graffiti scrawled around the other side of the little hole: _Open for business!! Best succ in America._ He’d never done anything like that before, especially nothing sexual with a co-worker; and yet the world hadn’t ended. He could... he could do it again, and no one would know. He felt a little heady with power as he splashed some water into his mouth, running a hand over his face as well to wash away the sweat that had somehow accumulated – perhaps from his run.

Enough time had passed now that Sami could probably leave the bathroom without bumping into Neville and arousing suspicion, but on the other hand... it had been _fun._ Sami had enjoyed himself, and damnit, he was allowed a little fun, wasn’t he? Nothing bad would happen if he just... stayed? For a while? Just to see what happened?

Dick pressing a little against its confines, Sami returned to his stall, twiddling his thumbs anxiously as he perched on the rim of the toilet seat. To his surprise, the bathroom door swung open a short minute later. Sami sat with bated breath and sure enough, a flaccid cock and balls were thrust through the gap.

Sami lightly dragged the back of one fingernail from the puckered tip of the foreskin up the shaft, and heard an intake of breath on the other side.

 _“Ah, si,_ yes,” whispered Cesaro, and Sami’s hand faltered for an instant.

He had maybe done _one_ sexual thing with a co-worker. And it was coming back to him in a rush now, that night, after the two out of three falls match. He’d been so keyed up, rutting against the older wrestler against some back wall in Full Sail. Their hands had been everywhere, hot breaths drowning out the distant clattering of techs moving things around a little ways away. Nobody noticing them as Cesaro found his way under Sami’s waistband, the two of them trading hot words until Cesaro said something about how Sami was a force of nature, Sami _might_ even beat him _someday,_ and Sami had leapt away in anger and shouted...

And Sami hadn’t thought about that day, not much, not about the way Cesaro had felt so hot and thick under his hand. Definitely hadn’t wondered _what if._ But now, as he carefully ran the fingernail down and over his balls, it felt like a stolen moment.

“You don’t have to be so soft,” Cesaro whined, but Sami didn’t rush his exploration, drawing his finger slowly back to the tip. It had swelled dramatically already, cockhead winking out from under its sheath.

Sami bent forward and carefully delivered a few small licks to the very tip, which brought a choking sound from the other side. Something electric was humming beneath his skin, as he unwrapped his hand from his former rival’s cock. The vein along the side was already bulging, and Cesaro pounded a fist against the partition in surprise when Sami ran his tongue slowly along it.

“Please,” Cesaro said, in a much calmer tone than Sami would have expected. He carefully licked all the way around Cesaro’s shaft before taking him in. Sami felt none of the fury or urgency of his past self as he listened to Cesaro’s quiet, breathy sounds. He could feel the roughness of his chapped, chewed lips catching on Cesaro’s smooth skin, but Cesaro didn’t seem to notice.

He could feel, distantly, his knees complaining from spending so long on hard tile, but that was fading into the background; discomfort rapidly overtaken by that humming feeling of power and control. Punctuating his sucking with feather-touches of his tongue earned him whimpers and gasps. Sami felt like he could go forever.

Sami couldn’t touch himself. It felt wrong to touch himself. It was like he was in some kind of dream-like state, stolen moments with a... with someone he used to like. He shouldn’t touch himself. He had to touch himself, had to rub at his cock through the sweats because his underwear was far too tight and he felt about to explode, but then he pulled back, placed his palms on the side of the stall again as he dipped his head down for another suck. It was torture, but... he shouldn’t. But he did.

When Cesaro started to rock his hips, Sami instinctively pulled back. “Please,” Cesaro whispered under his breath, gasping just a little bit, and Sami felt something rushing through him with such a strength he couldn’t help acquiescing. He resumed his ministrations, this time with the feeling of Cesaro pushing into him ever so slightly.

Cesaro’s shallow thrusts made everything go just a little bit quicker, just a little bit deeper. “I’m close,” he gasped, and Sami felt like this hadn’t been enough, not nearly as long as he wanted it to last. He thrust into his own fist furiously, and swirled his tongue around the shaft like he was trying to memorise the taste, sucking ever so gently until Cesaro’s hips froze. Cesaro moaned quietly.

Sami took as much as he could into his mouth, and spat it discreetly into the toilet. The rest dribbled onto his hand.

“Thank you,” Cesaro said. “You were very nice, my friend, thank you.”

There were some people Sami didn’t know. A guy he vaguely recognised from sound and lighting, who swore so loudly the whole time Sami was certain they were going to be caught. Someone he didn’t recognise at all who must have been arena staff, with a piercing so intimidating that Sami only felt comfortable giving him a handjob for fear of injury.

Most people didn’t see, or perhaps didn’t care about, the hole. That was fine. When the Club came in, Sami actually lifted his feet up into the stall just in case, but they seemed to ignore it anyway.

So when a group of suits all walked in together, Sami tuned out their chatter;  obviously nothing was going to happen in a group, and he had nearly beaten this level of Candy Crush. Chocolate squares were spreading across the screen and he had only two lives left, when he heard something that made him sit up.

“You two go on ahead,” Triple H said to the other execs. “I need to fix my hair.”

There was chuckling, and the two men said something about meeting Hunter in the production booth. Sami put his phone away. The door shut.

“You’ll work fast and you’ll keep quiet, or you’ll lose your job,” Sami’s boss rumbled, and he was on the floor with his tongue out before Hunter had even finished unzipping.

He’d been going back and forth for the last hour between actively touching himself and edging off, waiting; but now Sami couldn’t get his pants down fast enough. Definitely couldn’t be bothered to question the logic behind Hunter’s words. Could only thrust into his own hand and pant.

A fat dick pressed past his lips, and just like that, he was sucking off _Triple fucking H._ Sami stretched his jaw wider to try and accommodate more of his boss’s girth.

“Deeper,” Hunter grunted.

 _And now for the thousands in attendance, and for the millions watching at home,_ Sami thought. He coughed slightly with laughter as he tried to take another inch.

“I said _deeper._ ” Hunter thrust mercilessly, causing Sami to gag as it hit the back of his throat. Hunter grunted again, Sami could feel his hands gripping the side of the cubicle as he thrust again. “Do I have to come in there and grab you to make you obey me?”

It was like he was dreaming. As Hunter spoke, Sami could feel a hand grabbing him by the curls – would it be Triple H’s hand? Would it be Shawn Michaels, perhaps, kneeling behind Sami in the locker room, pressing him forward as he thrust against his back, the three of them slicked up and naked? Sami couldn’t breathe, but what was breathing? What was breathing, compared to the hot, sweaty taste of Triple H at the back of your throat?

With a whimper, Sami tugged his sweats back down and rubbed a palm over himself, unable to hold back any longer. Hunter thrust one more time, then pulled out with huff. A finger appeared through the hole.

"Come here."

Sami shifted forward to lick at it. The digit crooked inside his cheek, pulling him flush with the opening.

"Now don't move. And don't touch yourself; it’s distracting."

Hunter thrust in again, forcing Sami back but he remembered _don't move_ and quickly pressed forward again, swallowing around the cock until he was able to take most of it. Hunter made a satisfied noise, then thrust in again.

Now that he was forbidden to touch himself, Sami's own arousal burnt him inside out. Everything was overwhelming; from the tight stretch of his lips to the thrill of his fingers on the rough cement between the floor tiles, _almost_ close enough to touch Hunter's shoes, to how whenever he moved his erection would brush so slightly against the metal it made his eyes water with shock and need.

Sami couldn’t touch himself, but maybe Shawn Michaels would. Maybe he’d helped D-X win a match, and they were grateful to him. “You did so well,” Triple H would say. “You saved us from Vince...”

“Now you have to let us thank you,” Shawn would explain. Sami’s hands were clasped behind his back to keep from grabbing at himself even though he wanted to, he wanted to _so much,_ but Shawn could wrap his arms around Sami’s waist and stroke him.

“Loosen your throat,” Hunter ordered. Sami took a deep breath and squeezed his eyes shut, moisture seeping out from the corners as Hunter’s dick _nearly_ made him gag. But instead he was swallowing around it, closer to coming than he’d ever been in his life, and Hunter grunted “ _Good._ ”

 _“Good,”_ Triple H would tell Sami, and Shawn would agree, crooning into Sami’s ear about what a great wrestler he was, how he would help Sami win the Heavyweight Championship, dick hard against Sami’s ass. Sami had to break away between thrusts to catch his breath, and maybe Triple H wouldn’t mind, maybe he would be stroking Sami’s cheek while Shawn whispered profanities against his temple.

 “Hold it,” Hunter said. Sami closed his eyes, feeling spit running down his chin. Shawn would be helping him, would be pressing Sami’s face forwards until his nose was in the curls of Triple H’s happy trail instead of flat against dull metal. And they would both be so proud of him, and Shawn would be tugging at Sami’s dick faster and harder, and suddenly Sami’s orgasm hit him like a truck. He tugged down his sweatpants just in time to paint the side of the stall with his come, groaning and sputtering at the same time as the taste of semen flooded his mouth. He stayed as still as he could, half doubled over, because Hunter had wanted him to stay still. Triple H had wanted him to stay still, so Sami pressed his tongue against his boss’s dick like he was milking it for more.

Then Hunter pulled away with a groan, and Sami let himself collapse onto the floor completely, struggling to catch his breath and feeling like he’d just run ten miles.

He barely even registered the warmth of his panting against his own forearm, slumped on the floor. It was a good few minutes before he grabbed some toilet paper to wipe off his hand. The come that had dribbled onto his beard, he let stay.

“I'll meet you there in a minute, Rome, I gotta take a leak." Sami was rubbing a cramp out of his calf on the ground, which must have unplugged his headphones somehow because as the door swung shut behind Dean, he heard a chuckle.

"Playing phone games on your break? Don't worry, I'm not gonna tell on you, dude. Time theft, fight the system." Sami smiled as he quickly set his phone to silent. Dean started caterwauling a tune he vaguely recognised as Nicki Minaj while he pissed. Then he turned to go.

Sami cleared his throat.

"Y'alright, man?"

After they’d won a tag match last July, Dean pinning AJ for the three-count, they’d gone to some bar in Detroit with loud, piped music. Dean had done an unconscionable number of tequila shots and draped his body over Sami’s.

“Thing is, Zayny baby, is I am the titty _master._ No one on the roster can _touch_ my game, I’d have ‘em tied up and begging before Rollins could even find his own cock.” His arms had been sticky, smell of sweat only overpowered by the atmosphere of spilt beer and cheap cologne. Sami had tried to sip his cola without toppling under Dean’s weight or bumping him in the injured ribs, but he had to lean in close to hear what Dean was saying. His voiced seemed to trail off almost, getting quieter and quieter under the thumping bass. “Fucking lost my championship, but I can’t lose my skills, right? Ultimate goddamn Casanova sitting here right now. Seth fucking Rollins could never get as good as me, right? Inimitable, right?”

“Well, what do we have here?”

Dean walked over, and Sami could _hear_ him smile.

"Nice little operation you've got going." The sound of a fly. "This isn't the sort of thing where my card’ll be charged later, is it?"

Sami grinned, and after a moment, rapped his knuckles twice on the wall. It's always two knocks for no, right?

Dean barked a laugh.

"Yeah, alright hot stuff, if you think you can handle it."

Sami wasted no time getting his hands and mouth on Dean. He'd become mostly inured to the musty taste of cock by now, rejoicing instead on the loud groans and profanity Dean was emitting as Sami explored his body.

“Aw, fuck babe, that’s so fuckin good,” Dean muttered as Sami’s tongue played with the little ridge under his head.

“Yeah, yeah, just like that, just fuckin’ like that. Wish I had some lube with me to treat you right, babe, take you nice and slow, bet you’d like that huh, all bent over in there propped up against the next stall... maybe there’d be some dude in the next stall too, trying to take a shit or something, but with my dick fucking up that pretty ass of yours all he’d hear is you moaning for me real good and he’d jerk it so hard, he’d come so hard he saw fuckin’ Jesus and Elvis chilling out in the sky and that still wouldn’t be half as hard as I make _you_ come, babydoll, oh yeah...”

Sami’s breath hitched so hard that Dean fell out of his mouth, but Dean didn’t seem to mind, only changed his ramble to “Yeah, you touchin’ yourself in there? Being real nice to yourself babe, touchin’ yourself thinking of me getting in you real deep?” And Sami _was,_ he had one arm up for support because he no longer trusted his legs to support him, and the other wrist-deep in his pants, grabbing at his over-sensitive cock before releasing it with shallow gasps.

He reached out with his tongue, trying to get Dean’s dick back into his mouth without using his hands, only managing to lap at the head a couple of times before Dean chuckled and pulled away. Sami couldn’t help a small whine escaping his throat.

“Can you do something for me, babydoll? Wanna do something real nice for me? ‘Cos I’d really love to come on your ass, gorgeous, I’d like it so much, pretty thing like you all bent over and needy; m’not gonna fuck you, not today, but I’d love to get my come all over your tight little ass and your back, and you’ll know you’re _mine,_ babe. Whaddya say, hmm? It’s up to you.”

Dean’s words turned into sound as Sami got his mouth back around his dick, humming happily as he thought about it. What he wanted, what he _really_ wanted was to feel Dean throb and come in his mouth, but something about the hoarseness of Dean’s voice as he whispered through the partition sent shivers up Sami’s spine. So he released Dean, quickly pulled his shirt halfway off – tight across his shoulders, the back hem bunched into his mouth like a gag – and tucked his underwear below the curve of his ass.

He backed up until he was pressed against the metal, feeling the fat head of Dean’s cock between his cheeks. Dean moaned. The partition began to shake, clanging on its bolts as Dean jerked himself off into the cleft of Sami’s ass.

“Fuck, babe, that’s so nice, you feel so nice, wish I could eat you out, sweetcheeks, you like that? You wanna spread for me a little so I can get my come all nice and deep in there, oh fuck...” Sami did want to, he did _want_ to, but he couldn’t stop touching himself for long enough. His body was shaking with desire, metal panel shaking against his ass as Dean rocked against heavily against it. His orgasm was long and low, and Sami groaned into his gag as he felt hot come splashing against him, running down his ass and onto his balls. He fell forward onto his arm, panting for breath, cock still hard. Behind him, he heard Dean zipping himself up.

“Well, thanks for that, bro. Gotta go meet my friend, but here’s hoping you know where to find me if you’re ever in the mood for a round two,” he said, a bit breathy. He left the bathroom, whistling, without washing his hands.

Sami reached back and collected some of the rapidly cooling goo with his fingers, wiping it onto the shaft of his cock thoughtfully. His shirt now stuck to his back a little uncomfortably, and he would definitely need even more of a shower than before, but for now, he was still horny as hell. One finger drifted back again, toying with the now-wet rim of his ass, probing inside just a bit, just enough to get that discomfort.

He whimpered and bit his lip as pain mixed with pleasure. He took a deep breath, clenching his fists on his knees. No. He had to last a bit longer if he wanted to – to keep doing _this._ And he did.

For a moment’s panic, Sami wondered if anyone had been recognising him. He probably should have thought about that before, right? But he was wearing black sweatpants, which everyone wore, and for his run he’d put on the crustiest sneakers he had; it’d take someone with an encyclopaedic knowledge of his wardrobe to recognise them, and the thought of meeting Tyler in here was... A bubble of laughter escaped him. Sami Zayn blowing Tyler Breeze in some grimy bathroom. That _would_ be a world gone topsy-turvy.

“What’re you laughing at?” Sami sat up, ignoring the weird sensations that had built up in his body from being in one place for so long and covered in increasingly sticky substances. He hadn’t noticed anyone come in.

“You some kind of idiot, huh?” Heavy footfalls came towards the partition. “Or maybe you’re just hungry.”

A large erection was shoved through, and Sami Zayn stared for a long moment at Braun Strowman’s penis.

“What’s wrong? You scared?” Laughter.

Sami could feel his heart racing, a little like it did with Adrian, but with more... Sami could burst out of the stall right now. He was fully dressed, Braun wasn’t; he’d have the element of surprise. Some kicks to the knees, using the sinks and the wall to his advantage... They were still feuding, they _were,_ Mick had never listened when Sami asked him for a rematch after the Last Man Standing, so it hadn’t _really_ finished, and...

He dragged the tip of a finger around the base of the cock, through some stray pubic hairs that were peeking through the glory hole.

“So you _are_ scared,” Braun announced smugly. Sami wrapped his lips around his tip, and Braun pushed in, forcing Sami to quickly accommodate. He shifted his knees as best he could without letting go, trying to get more comfortable, but it was difficult to do two things at once.

Sami heard Braun chuckle again as his hips pistoned harder. Slowly, he drew his lips back, until Braun felt a hint of his teeth. The mere ghost of a bite.

“Hey now,” Braun said. “Hey now, watch out, careful.” He’d frozen in his tracks, and Sami smirked to himself. He leant back, listening with delight to Braun’s inhale as his canine brushed a vein, and wrapped his finger around the head of his cock. Maybe just a little too tight. Braun’s breath hissed. Maybe just tight enough.

Sami pulled him flush with the divider. Braun was taller than everyone else, so to use the hole he had to spread his legs awkwardly, and Sami felt him stumble slightly, already off-balance. The metal resonated with the sound of his giant body thumping against it, but Sami paid it no mind. He pressed himself as deep as he could, hearing Braun hiss again as his already squeezed cock was trapped between Sami’s cheekbone and the metal, tape crinkling as Sami moved in underneath to lick what he could reach of Strowman’s balls.

It tasted like old sweat, but Sami didn’t care anymore. Didn’t care about his own arousal, or the soreness of his neck or the pain in his knees, because Braun was _wailing,_ panting every time Sami pulled away for breath but then Sami would start licking again with Braun’s dick caught tight and Braun would moan like a man possessed.

“C’mon, c’mon, just let me, c’mon,” he begged, not pulling away, and Sami couldn’t help smiling. He drew his mouth along the shaft, letting the flat of his teeth press against the length, and there was a loud bang and a rattle as Braun’s knee gave out. Two gigantic hands appeared over the top of the stall, screws creaking as he pulled himself back to standing.

Sami rushed ahead, full of victory and adrenaline, taking Braun deep in his throat. There was the sound of the bathroom door swinging open, immediately shutting again when Braun roared “ _Get the fuck out!”_ at the hapless passerby. His voice wavered on the last syllable, cracking into a moan that vibrated through the partition like he had his head pressed against it same as Sami did. Sami could hear his every whimper, the slight sound of metal scraping against metal, the strain of Braun’s arms holding himself up.

He set a merciless pace, fingers grasping tight, teeth slipping through only slightly, only now and then. Only a few harsh twists of the wrist later, and Braun came, stall rattling and shaking once more as his feet slipped slightly to either side. Sami kept his hold on Braun’s length, red and throbbing as the last pale drops were wrung out. Braun huffed like a wild bull as he waited patiently to be released at Sami’s leisure.

Sami would have to remember this bathroom next time they were in town.

Time passed. Sami made a smiley face by picking at fragments of the duct tape and re-sticking them to the stall door. He was getting antsy; his erection had barely flagged, but his phone needed charging soon and his leg was starting to jiggle from pent-up energy. Dean’s come was starting to flake on his thighs, and there was probably more in drying his beard. Maybe he’d grab a power bar on the way to the showers. And then someone walked in.

It was Kevin. It was Kevin. He knew those footsteps. He knew that humming. It wasn’t _probably_ Kevin, it was Kevin the way he’d known every inch of Kevin – almost every inch – since they were seventeen years old. Oh god, it was Kevin.

Sami held his breath, heart pounding in his throat; it made him feel almost sick. He held his breath. His hand shook. Nothing came through the hole except the sound of Kevin humming to himself and splashing water on his face.  The sound of Kevin’s shirt rustling as he patted himself dry—

Sami's phone clattered to the floor. He hurried to pick it up, but now Kevin knew someone was in here. Kevin would turn and see the hole, and then he would— Sami would _have_ to—

The sound of Kevin’s feet turning towards him. Sami held his breath. His lips felt dry, so he licked them.

The sound of Kevin turning away again, walking towards the door.

Blood rushing in his ears, Sami stood in one fluid movement, pressing himself close, pants dropping to his ankles, and coughed. He immediately clapped a hand over his mouth, as though that could change the noise he'd already made, or could wipe Kevin's memory of what Sami's coughs were like. Probably not too distinctive.It probably wasn't that big of a deal. But Sami kept still anyway.

There was a moment’s silence.

“Seriously, dude?” Kevin’s voice sounded so natural that Sami was suddenly worried there was no wall between them at all and Kevin was speaking directly to him, looking into Sami’s eyes with that funny smile on his face. But no, the metal was cold and hard around his penis. Sami didn’t make a sound, it was more than his life’s worth to make a sound, and not just because he had his ear pressed to the divider to pick up the whisper of Kevin shaking his head.

“I mean, I know we’re in a bathroom, right? It’s not very classy.” Kevin was laughing, and every bone in Sami’s body wanted to drape his arm around his partner’s shoulders, a hand on his chest as they laugh together, sharing the joke. But Sami couldn’t move, and Kevin wasn’t laughing cruelly. It was the sort of laugh he did when he was trying to start a conversation, make friends, but.

There was a sound of shifting, and then the soft press of two knees hitting a tile floor. Oh god. Oh god.

“I guess it’s not too hard to pretend things are different, is it?” said Kevin more quietly. Something inside Sami tangled painfully and he didn’t know what to say. Then he remembered he couldn’t say anything at all, and he squeezed his eyes shut, trying not to think about the feeling of Kevin’s breath on him but unable to think of anything else.

A warm hand wrapped around him, and it was only biting hard into his wrist that kept Sami from crying out. Kevin paused, like he was listening to Sami’s slight aspiration, fingers tantalisingly loose. Then he said something, a word Sami didn’t quite catch because suddenly Kevin’s lips were around him.

Sami’s teeth dug in so hard it would probably bruise. Nothing had ever been like this before. It was so warm, so soft, and then everything tightened suddenly in a way that made Sami’s entire body shiver. Then Kevin pulled away, Sami’s dick left smarting in the cool air. He gasped at the loss, clapping a hand back over his mouth to hide the noise.

And Sami was blind, he was blind, there was this stupid wall there so he couldn’t _see_ what Kevin was doing or about to do – couldn’t _see_ Kevin’s face, his short-cropped hair, as he wrapped those lips around Sami, maybe looking up into Sami’s eyes—

There was a warm, almost ticklish feeling as something dripped onto Sami. Saliva, he realised, fingers trembling as they dug into his face. Kevin had angled himself over Sami somehow, and was slowly dripping spit onto his erection – _fuck_ – and licking it around. And Sami couldn’t see any of it.

Kevin himself whined quietly, the tiniest sound, as he took Sami in his mouth again. It was gentle, when the hell did Kev get so gentle?

Kevin would be able to taste Dean’s dried come on Sami’s dick, he realised, the thought sending shockwaves through his brain, sending all other thoughts flying. Had Kevin ever tasted come on another man’s dick before?

Had Kevin ever tasted another man’s come before?

Whose?

When?

Sami’s eyes started watering again. It was funny, how his eyes seemed to water with arousal. This whole situation was so damn funny. It was hilarious, and Sami’s hands felt weak and empty, unwilling to stay clamped over his mouth even though his body was filled with more thrumming energy than ever in his life. He could feel every one of Kevin’s movements – the swirls of his tongue, the delicate touch of his fingertips – all coming out of nowhere and a thousand times more intense than anything before in Sami’s life. And like a pulsar star, it radiated all the way through him sixteen times a second, burning him with arousal one moment and then about to collapse the next. It left his lip bloody as he forced himself to keep from whispering Kevin’s name, from begging for more, _more._

Just as Sami began to worry about getting a heart attack, Kev pulled away. “You’re pretty quiet over there,” he said. “Am I not doing it right?” Then he laughed, a little stiffly. Sami was so close, all he needed was Kevin’s mouth around him again, but he couldn’t say. Couldn’t say or Kevin would hear his voice and he’d stop and he’d leave. So Sami had to stay there, damp eyes pressed against his forearm, teeth clamped shut as Kevin waited, brushing Sami delicately with – what? His hands? His face? Sami _needed_ to know – until Kevin decided he’d waited long enough and began caressing Sami again with his soft tongue. And it was agony.

Kevin slowly began to take Sami deeper again, like he had done at the very start, slurping noises ringing lewdly in the empty room and in Sami’s ears. He wondered who Kevin could be thinking of. Maybe Chris. Maybe Steve Austin; something about that was funny to Sami, thinking about all those posters in Kevin’s bedroom so long ago when they were just kids, but instead of laughing it felt like there was a knife twisting in his gut. Sometimes feelings don’t make sense. Kevin had to pull away again, gulping in breath, but it was only for a second and Sami managed to swallow his sounds of loss.

It was too much, it had been too much from the start. Sami’s teeth hurt from the strain of trying to keep it together. He could never have lasted long, not when it was Kevin. Kevin sucking his dick now, his fingers still drifting across the base so gently, so damn gently, and Sami could feel his climax building like a rushing tide.

He wanted to warn Kevin somehow, knocking on the partition or something, but he couldn’t trust himself to pull his hands away from his mouth now: one set of knuckles thrust between his teeth, the other palm on top, keeping all his treacherous words inside, inside. He tried to pull a hand away to communicate somehow but he could feel everything welling up inside, _Kevin, it’s so good, Kevin, I_ –

So instead he came, he felt himself coming down Kevin’s throat, felt that beautiful mouth swallowing around him, felt one last brush of those beautiful fingers as Kevin pushed himself away from the stall to stand.

Rapid footsteps. The door shut.

And then Sami was alone again, silence drowned out only by the pounding of his own heartbeat.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Remember to always use protection for oral (and other) sex! When you sleep with someone, you’re also sleeping with every person Sami Zayn has ever slept with.


End file.
